The snow fell so thickly that it filled the stanitsa trench
altogether, and settled on the stockade wall like a mound. Outside
were night and a storm; but the chief room in Hreptyoff was blazing
with light. There were two violins, a bass-viol, a flageolet, a
French horn, and two bugles. The fiddlers worked away till they
were turning in their seats. The cheeks of the flageolet player and
the buglers were puffed out, and their eyes were bloodshot. The
oldest officers sat on benches at the wall, one near another,--as
gray doves sit before their cotes in a roof,--and while drinking
mead and wine looked at the dancers.
Basia opened the ball with Pan Mushalski, who, despite advanced
years, was as great a dancer as a bowman. Basia wore a robe of
silver brocade edged with ermine, and resembled a newly blown
rose in fresh snow. Young and old marvelled at her beauty, and
the cry “Save us!” came involuntarily from the breasts of many;
for though Panna Eva and Panna Zosia were somewhat younger, and
beautiful beyond common measure, still Basia surpassed all. In her
eyes delight and pleasure were flashing. As she swept past the
little knight she thanked him for the entertainment with a smile;
through her open rosy mouth gleamed white teeth, and she shone in
her silver robe, glittering like a sun-ray or a star, and enchanted
the eye and the heart with the beauty of a child, a woman, and a
flower. The split sleeves of her robe fluttered after her like
the wings of a great butterfly; and when, raising her skirt, she
made an obeisance before her partner, you would think that she was
floating on the earth like a vision, or one of those sprites which
on bright nights in summer skip along the edges of ravines.
Outside, the soldiers pressed their stern mustached faces against
the lighted window-panes, and flattening their noses against the
glass peered into the room. It pleased them greatly that their
adored lady surpassed all others in beauty, for they held furiously
to her side; they did not spare jests, therefore, and allusions
to Panna Eva, or Panna Zosia, and greeted with loud hurrahs every
approach that Basia made to the window.
Pan Michael increased like bread-rising, and nodded his head,
keeping time with Basia’s movements; Pan Zagloba, standing near,
held a tankard in his hand, tapped with his foot and dropped liquor
on the floor; but at times he and the little knight turned and
looked at each other with uncommon rapture and puffing.
But Basia glittered and glittered through the whole room, ever
more joyous, ever more charming. Such for her was the Wilderness.
Now a battle, now a hunt, now amusements, dancing and music, and
a crowd of soldiers,--her husband the greatest among them, and he
loving and beloved; Basia felt that all liked and admired her,
gave her homage,--that the little knight was happy through that;
and she herself felt as happy as birds feel when spring has come,
and they rejoice and sing lustily and joyously in the air of May.
The second couple were Azya and Eva Novoveski, who wore a crimson
jacket. The young Tartar, completely intoxicated with the white
vision glittering before him, spoke not one word to Eva; but she,
thinking that emotion had stopped the voice in his breast, tried to
give him courage by pressure of her hand, light at the beginning,
and afterward stronger. Azya, on his part, pressed her hand so
powerfully that hardly could she repress a cry of pain; but he
did this involuntarily, for he thought only of Basia, he saw only
Basia, and in his soul he repeated a terrible vow, that if he had
to burn half Russia she should be his.
At times, when consciousness came to him somewhat, he felt a desire
to seize Eva by the throat, stifle her, and gloat over her, because
she pressed his hand, and because she stood between him and Basia.
At times he pierced the poor girl with his cruel, falcon glance,
and her heart began to beat with more power; she thought that it
was through love that he looked at her so rapaciously.
Pan Adam and Zosia formed the third couple. She looked like a
forget-me-not, and tripped along at his side with downcast eyes; he
looked like a wild horse, and jumped like one. From under his shod
heels splinters were flying; his forelock was soaring upward; his
face was covered with ruddiness; he opened his nostrils wide like a
Turkish charger, and sweeping Zosia around, as a whirlwind does a
leaf, carried her through the air. The soul grew glad in him beyond
measure, since he lived on the edge of the Wilderness whole months
without seeing a woman. Zosia pleased him so much at first glance,
that in a moment he was in love with her to kill. From time to time
he looked at her downcast eyes, at her blooming cheeks, and just
snorted at the pleasant sight; then all the more mightily did he
strike fire with his heels; with greater strength did he hold her,
at the turn of the dance, to his broad breast, and burst into a
mighty laugh from excess of delight, and boiled and loved with more
power every moment.
But Zosia had fear in her dear little heart; still, that fear was
not disagreeable, for she was pleased with that whirlwind of a man
who bore her along and carried her with him,--a real dragon! She
had seen various cavaliers in Yavorov, but such a fiery one she had
not met till that hour; and none danced like him, none swept her on
so. In truth, a real dragon! What was to be done with him, since it
was impossible to resist?
In the next couple, Panna Kaminski danced with a polite cavalier,
and after her came the Armenians,--Pani Kyeremovich and Pani
Neresevich, who, though wives of merchants, were still invited to
the company, for both were persons of courtly manners, and very
wealthy. The dignified Naviragh and the two Anardrats looked with
growing wonder at the Polish dances; the old men at their mead
cups made an increasing noise, like grasshoppers on stubble land.
But the music drowned every voice, and in the middle of the room
delight grew in all hearts.
Meanwhile Basia left her partner, ran panting to her husband, and
clasped her hands before him.
“Michael,” said she, “it is so cold outside the windows for the
soldiers, give command to let them have a keg of gorailka.”
He, being unusually jovial, fell to kissing her hands, and cried,--
“I would not spare blood to please you!”
Then he hurried out himself to tell the soldiers at whose instance
they were to have the keg; for he wished them to thank Basia, and
love her the more.
In answer, they raised such a shout that the snow began to fall
from the roof; the little knight cried in addition, “Let the
muskets roar there as a vivat to the Pani!” Upon his return to the
room he found Basia dancing with Azya. When the Tartar embraced
that sweet figure with his arm, when he felt the warmth coming from
her and her breath on his face, his pupils went up almost into his
skull, and the whole world turned before his eyes; in his soul he
gave up paradise, eternity, and for all the houris he wanted only
this one.
Then Basia, when she noticed in passing the crimson jacket of Eva,
curious to know if Azya had proposed yet, inquired,--
“Have you told her?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“It is not time yet,” said he, with a strange expression.
“But are you greatly in love?”
“To the death, to the death!” answered the Tartar, with a low but
hoarse voice, like the croaking of a raven.
And they danced on, immediately after Pan Adam, who had pushed
to the front. Others had changed partners, but Pan Adam did not
let Zosia go; only at times he seated her on a bench to rest
and recover breath, then he revelled again. At last he stopped
before the orchestra, and holding Zosia with one arm, cried to the
musicians,--
“Play the krakoviak! on with it!”
Obedient to command, they played at once. Pan Adam kept time with
his foot, and sang with an immense voice,--
“Lost are crystal torrents,
In the Dniester River;
Lost in thee, my heart is,
Lost in thee, O maiden!
U-há!”
And that “U-há” he roared out in such Cossack fashion that Zosia
was drooping from fear. The dignified Naviragh, standing near, was
frightened, the two learned Anardrats were frightened; but Pan Adam
led the dance farther. Twice he made the circle of the room, and
stopping before the musicians, sang of his heart again,--
“Lost, but not to perish,
Though the current snatch it;
In the depth ’twill seek out
And bear back a gold ring.
U-há!”
“Very pretty rhymes,” cried Zagloba; “I am skilled in the matter,
for I have made many such. Bark away, cavalier, bark away; and when
you find the ring I will continue in this sense,--
“Flint are all the maidens,
Steel are all the young men;
You’ll have sparks in plenty
If you strike with will.
U-há!”
“Vivat! vivat Pan Zagloba!” cried the officers, with a mighty
voice, so that the dignified Naviragh was frightened, and the two
learned Anardrats were frightened, and began to look at one another
with exceeding amazement.
But Pan Adam went around twice more, and seated his partner at
last on the bench, panting, and astonished at the boldness of her
cavalier. He was very agreeable to her, so valiant and honest, a
regular conflagration; but just because she had not met such a man
hitherto, great confusion seized her,--therefore, dropping her eyes
still lower, she sat in silence, like a little innocent.
“Why are you silent; are you grieving for something?” asked Pan
Adam.
“I am; my father is in captivity,” answered Zosia, with a thin
voice.
“Never mind that,” said the young man; “it is proper to dance!
Look at this room; here are some tens of officers, and most likely
no one of them will die his own death, but from arrows of Pagans
or in bonds,--this one to-day, that to-morrow. Each man on these
frontiers has lost some one, and we make merry lest God might think
that we murmur at our service. That is it. It is proper to dance.
Laugh, young lady! show your eyes, for I think that you hate me!”
Zosia did not raise her eyes, it is true; but she began to raise
the corners of her mouth, and two dimples were formed in her rosy
cheeks.
“Do you love me a little bit?” asked he.
And Zosia, in a still lower voice, said, “Yes; but--”
When he heard this. Pan Adam started up, and seizing Zosia’s hands,
began to cover them with kisses, and cry,--
“Lost! No use in talking; I love you to death! I don’t want any one
but you, my dearest beauty! Oh, save me, how I love you! In the
morning I’ll fall at your mother’s feet. What?--in the morning!
I’ll fall to-night, so as to be sure that you are mine!”
A tremendous roar of musketry outside the window drowned Zosia’s
answer. The delighted soldiers were firing, as a vivat for Basia;
the window-panes rattled, the walls trembled. The dignified
Naviragh was frightened a third time; the two learned Anardrats
were frightened; but Zagloba, standing near, began to pacify them.
“With the Poles,” said he to them, “there is never rejoicing
without outcry and clamor.”
In truth, it came out that all were just waiting for that firing
from muskets to revel in the highest degree. The usual ceremony of
nobles began now to give way to the wildness of the steppe. Music
thundered again; dances burst out anew, like a storm; eyes were
flashing and fiery; mist rose from the forelocks. Even the oldest
went into the dance; loud shouts were heard every moment; and they
drank and frolicked,--drank healths from Basia’s slipper; fired
from pistols at Eva’s boot-heels. Hreptyoff shouted and roared and
sang till daybreak, so that the beasts in the neighboring wilds hid
from fear in the deepest thickets.
Since that was almost on the eve of a terrible war with the Turkish
power, and over all these people terror and destruction were
hanging, the dignified Naviragh wondered beyond measure at those
Polish soldiers, and the two learned Anardrats wondered no less.